


Comfort. Safety. Warmth.

by thatsalotofbirds



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Found Family, M/M, everyone deserves a home, fuming, i just like the idea of a home, just realized ive already written about homes for another character on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsalotofbirds/pseuds/thatsalotofbirds
Summary: Wylan wonders if he'll ever find a home.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Comfort. Safety. Warmth.

Wylan lay on a cot in the lower deck of the ship, the wind was on their side tonight and he was supposed to be sleeping. His thoughts were too loud though. Too pervasive. He was stuck worrying and wondering in the darkness of his cabin. Would they even survive this? Would he ever get back home? Saints, what even was his home? 

It was a funny word, home. A word Wylan still couldn’t quite understand. He could glean the feelings one was supposed to get from having a home. Comfort. Safety. Warmth. Had he ever felt those? Not really no. Definitely not for the house he grew up in where his father’s glares and tutors trailed him constantly. His room in the Barrel had not been much better, consistently damp and dark, letters from his father haunting his doorstep every other day. 

He wanted a home desperately. He wanted friends like the ones on deck, the kind who-. Who what? They had done nothing for him, Wylan had to remind himself of that. He was insurance, nothing more nothing less. A safety measure. So he pushed away the idea of home, pushed it down dark and deep and let the gentle rock of the boat lull him to sleep. 

Wylan nearly laughed when he realized, nearly laughed and then nearly cried and then sat in the sort of reverent silence that surrounds only the most thoughtful of men. He’d found a home. Found it amongst criminals and murders but found it all the same. At this point he was fairly sure he was a criminal anyway but there was still lingering irony. He had a home. He’d earned a home. With quick thinking and a few explosives he’d made something beautiful. 

He was home now, in the streets of the Barrel and the hallways of the estate. In Jesper’s arms and the soft cotton sheets. He was home. Comfort. Safety. Warmth. Wylan couldn’t help but grin as a slice of early morning sunlight slipped through the window. It checked all the boxes.

**Author's Note:**

> breaking out of my writer's block? It's more likely then you think.


End file.
